


On leave - Remembering you

by SailorStarDust1



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexuality, Butterfly Effect, Canon Disabled Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Civilian Life, Civilian VQuiet, Drama, F/M, Friendship/Love, M/M, Past BBEva, Past JackBoss, Unrequited Bosselot, What-If, request fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-09-27 18:03:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10037441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorStarDust1/pseuds/SailorStarDust1
Summary: Jack cools his head, visiting Japan and taking some much-needed time off after the events of Operation Snake Eater.There, he makes a new friend...A certain blonde.





	1. 1964

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CoreBlooddrinker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoreBlooddrinker/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack cools his head, visiting Japan and taking some much-needed time off after the events of Operation Snake Eater.
> 
> There, he makes a new friend...A certain blonde.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A request fic for CoreBloodDrinker, who wanted to a BBKaz story where they met during or after MGS3.
> 
> I thought I'd have time to write a BB/Boss (...Jack/Boss? What is the 'ship called?!) fic for MGS Rairpair Week, but things are far too hectic in real life. In its place, I slowly wrote this. Finishing in about four days' time surprised me! (As an aside, Jack/Boss's relationship in this takes some cues from my Snapshot fic.)
> 
> My apologies if this isn't 100% period accurate. Also! Writing this made me wish there was some kind of joint project of MGS English VAs with Japanese seiyuu (like, more in the way of character dramas, songs, etc), but especially with Konami currently, that'll never happen. ;_;
> 
> Please enjoy this one!

Taking time off was simply a necessity. He easily picked up enough languages in his years of training with...with... _her_ , that visiting a brand new country was of no real issue.

Zero was somewhat surprised yet—thankfully—understanding, as were the rest of the FOX Unit. Permission almost immediately granted after Jack chatted with Zero in his office one rainy September morning. That gloomy and overcast weather certainly fit Jack's mood—Major Zero's, as well.

Big Boss's 30 days of paid military leave were otherwise going to waste, after all. Might as well be partially used before the year came to a close.

Thinking back to the awards ceremony, memories of that kid, Adam, making eye contact with him through the window as the newly awarded Big Boss shook the president's hand....What on Earth was _with_  him?!

Getting away from it all was more than necessary. Shaking his head, John's lone eye focused on the sparkling sunlit waters of Japan's Tokyo Bay from his park bench, slumped against it while thoughtfully chewing on his chocolate Calorie Mate.

Sighing, recollections that potential stalking by Adam—John hoped he was wrong—and being left high and dry by Eva wasn't the worst of it. Jack insisted within the deep jungles of Russia, there was a sense of _somebody_ watching him, of being followed—yet all David Oh offered through careful sips from his mug of English Breakfast, in his rather plush office chair, that a little time off would do Jack wonders. The stress of the mission naturally did things to his mind.

A rather hard time buying the simple explanation, Snake was in no mood for arguing, regardless.

Far, far, away was certainly in the cards for him. There were vague lamentations within at his firm decision  _against_ visiting China to exchange pleasantries with a certain blonde, but making nice with the spy that tried to screw him over—No.

China's 596 test in October would naturally put the world on guard...Was deterrence nothing but a pipe dream? Was peace truly an illusion? 

Regardless, the Philosopher's Legacy within John's pocket after Operation Snake Eater was swiftly delivered to Major Zero, Snake leaving the details to The Boss's old friend. 

Absentmindedly scratching his forehead that occupied the space of his— _her_ —bandana, some sweat accumulating there, Jack just didn't have the heart to take it off. Even when out of uniform and following mundane civilian duties, picturing himself not wearing it was essentially blasphemy of the highest.

_Luck was on their side that long day, after a particularly successful mission of knocking out and capturing enemy combatants currently detained within their U.S. camps. Her blonde locks flowed freely, bandana in hand as she wore gray sweats, back resting against her pillow. She smiled, patting the knee of the young brunette man sitting cross-legged next to her, wearing his own pair._

_Their shared barracks was nothing extravagant, and lights out was quickly approaching. Yet after a hard day's work, the simple joys of kicking back couldn't be beat._

_"Nice work today, Jack."_

_At only sixteen, John couldn't help but feel pride well up within his heart, glancing from his can of victory soda, offering a cocky smirk. "All your training paid off big time! We can't lose this war if you're guiding us."_

_Her relaxed stance grew stern as she lightly flicked at Jack's forehead. A mild warning with serious overtones. "Overconfidence is anyone's downfall._ Never  _treat lives, or independence at stake, like it's some game."_

_Nodding with a sheepish grin growing alongside his burning cheeks, Jack stood. His training under her, thanks to his parents' agreement...He still had a long, long, way to go._

_"I'll uh...go write that letter to my parents, now."_

_Joy's bandana was carefully tucked away within a nightstand drawer—she retrieved her lighter and a cigar, ready to step out and enjoy a moment of quiet victory._

_"Good. You promised you'd write them daily, didn't you?"_

_"...Yeah." Truthfully, he'd much rather read one of their thick history books in the room, or offer exhilarating reconnaissance out on the field—like today's mission—alongside the other men. The Boss leading their division was certainly an honor, one she took with humble pride—given her personal struggles of rank-climbing simply due to her gender, back in the beginning of her military career. Stories she sometimes told Jack without too much in the way of personal details._

_Despite quiet protests, he sat at his personal desk, soda can to the side while pulling out a pen and paper._

_In his moments between thinking of what to write and the pen furiously scribbling against the surface, Jack didn't notice Joy's proud smile before she stepped outside, cigar held between her fingers._

Clearing his head, truly getting away from it all, was the best course of action. Yokosuka, too, felt like somewhat of a quiet enough city to not be as bustling as Tokyo.

Passing boats carrying tourists or cargo brought John's gaze and thoughts back to the present. The last strains of The Beatles'  _And I love her_ from a clothing shop's distant radio made him especially concentrate on that woman. A woman lost forever for a cause that history would never be aware of.

"Excuse me. Is this yours?"

Blinking, John looked up. The English-speaking voice took him by surprise, although many locals he ran across were quite friendly during his attempts in finding directions.

In this person's hand: Her bandana. Frantically, with a mild discomfort growing within his stomach, Snake immediately grasped the object and retied it, internally cursing his foolishness of misplacing it during _a scratch to his forehead_ , of all things! If he ever lost such a priceless treasure, well...

Snake blinked again as their eyes properly met. A blonde man around eighteen or so—apparently biracial?—wearing aviators, shorts, and a t-shirt. The young man grinned, hand in a pocket, offering sing-song in almost perfect English: "Lovestruck, are we~?"

Snake immediately made a face, eyebrow quirked and snorting with laughter. "Excuse me?"

The teasing(?) continued: "Sweet eyepatch. You a pirate?"

"...." Snake abruptly stood, wiping straggling snack crumbs off his beard. Truth be told, that comment stung. Getting used to doing shit half-blind in the civilian world wasn't an easy task as previously assumed.

"Thanks, but I gotta run."

"Hey, wait!" Giving a start, the blonde firmly grasped John's hand.

"Huh?" Snake turned, posture relaxing. Physical contact, especially since Eva—or unintentionally with Adam, despite his quickly growing to  _like_ that kid—just felt...

It just felt frightening.

"Let me guess." Not missing a beat, the young man's cocky smirk never vanished—it vaguely reminded John of more innocent days—knuckles tapping on a sign for Verny Park. "Your next line will be: 'I can't read any Kanji and I'm looking for the toilets'."

"Hmph. If you have to ask, I can't read any Kanji and I'm—" Snake immediately scowled, pulling away from the brat who got his kicks from teasing almost-thirty-year-old-men to adjust his leather jacket collar (the perfect choice for chilly weather near the Bay). "...How the hell did you do that?"

"Call it an innate ability. It's Kazuhira Miller, by the way." Rather than bowing, the blonde immediately offered his hand, the other fell from the park sign to his hip.

Responding to the shake with a firm, strong, grip, Snake was somewhat impressed. "Hm...You certainly know your different cultures well. Call me Snake."

"Snake, huh? That's wild. Given your appearance, you're military, eh?" Miller grinned. "Reading isn't exactly a difficult activity. Learning comes with the territory, being _haafu_."

Oh.

Uncertainty rising over how to reply to such a delicate topic towards a newfound friend(?), John awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. Roughly questioning in Japanese: "The toilets...?"

A friendly arm slung around "military man's" shoulder, Kaz pointed while switching back to his native tongue. "See that building, right behind the lamp post and giant sakura?"

...Oh.

John...certainly felt like an idiot, not noticing the public bathrooms less than a foot away, behind his seat. Nodding with a wave, he immediately took off in a light sprint, chasing away his weird sense of embarrassment around a total stranger. Just maybe, while he was at it, he could push away held-back tears that threatened to spill any time the memories of  _her_   filled his soul. 

Kazuhira, for his part, stood with hands in his pockets and gazing towards Tokyo Bay. Patiently waiting for Snake's call of nature to be answered.

* * *

Miller became Snake's unofficial tour guide that day, as they visited the local Shrines and shops. He gave simple explanations of the various and vast local histories, mixing Japanese phrases in the English to ensure John picked up his new language better. John honestly enjoyed the company and miniature adventure, yet he did feel strange inside on a few occasions.

Miller bumping elbows with John before silent offerings to a Shinto altar, his leaning in too close for comfort as they sat down and chatted about their likes and dislikes over ice cream cones, a hand falling to John's knee while catching their breath on a bench.

It was confusing more so than uncomfortable, immediately reminding John of Adam's overly friendly nature as Operation Snake Eater progressed.

"Don't you _ever_ take those sunglasses off?", Snake quipped while walking side by side Kazuhira into a housing complex, English naturally more comfortable to him. "I'm still feeling strange about visiting your place without even bringing a house-warming gift."

"My mother's sick, so she's on something of a strict diet. Don't worry about it." Kaz waved a dismissive hand, taking a moment to admire a dormant cherry blossom tree. He ignored the teasing about sunglasses to comment, his arms crossed. "Man, if only you could be here in spring. It's quite a sight at those flower viewing parties."

Snake teased despite his straight face, "I'd be more interested in the drinking part."

His back of the mind concerns were put on hold while stepping into the small entry way, slipping on house slippers as John offered a hasty "Pardon the intrusion."

Kaz gave a lopsided smile, equal measures amused and happy at this military man's polite attempts as a house guest.

"Kazuhira, is that you?"

Both men turned to see a frail Japanese woman speaking the language, slightly hunched over and covered in fine robes, a hand holding the wall for support. What would be a youthful and lively appearance was betrayed by damp long black hair, worry lines, and pale skin.

John immediately bowed, mumbling a now flustered "Pardon the intrusion". His companion wasted no time in wrapping strong arms around the woman's shoulders, speaking Japanese that Snake didn't quite understand.

"Mother, what are you doing up and about? You're supposed to be resting!"

"You promised me two hours ago you'd be back with ingredients for our curry-rice, and I wake up to an empty house! What else am I supposed to do when dinner is soon?"

"I'm sorry for forgetting, but remember?" His tone was patient while pointing at their clock adorning the wall, rubbing the woman's upper back in comforting circles. "Dinner isn't for another four hours."

" _Oh_! Honestly, Kazuhira, you should tell me these things in the first place. Besides that, who's this foreign man?" She pointed at Big Boss. Certainly, word of the man who prevented all-out nuclear war had reached international ears within the span of some three weeks. "Military?! Have you been harassing the police?" 

"If it's money you and your mother need..." Pangs of guilt and memories—memories of home cooked meals and words of encouragement, memories of the parents he intentionally broke contact with—alongside those memories of the mother figure and mentor recently taken from this world by his own hand—filling his heart, John looked over the contents of his wallet to eye his various denomination of Yen bills.

The United States government being extremely generous financially—rather nice perks, all around—to Big Boss after _that_ operation was something he didn't feel boastful about. Not after all that blood on his hands. And certainly not after losing her. 

For the first time in their few hours of getting acquainted, Kazuhira's English reply was curt, his back still turned. "Snake, please put your money away. We're fine."

The hard to decipher emotions and trembling voice enough of a warning, John did as requested, wallet returning to his back pocket. Embarrassment? Pride?

Sighing, Kazuhira disappeared behind the hallway with his mother, arm never leaving her shoulder. Supporting her movements step by step.

"Everything's fine, mom. He's a friend."

"Who is that man? Is he our dinner guest tonight? Who is that foreign man, Kazuhira? I swear, if your father were here, you would—"

Sounds of a door opening and faint reassurances. Miller returned a few minutes later. His sunny personality had essentially vanished, fatigue in its place. Attempts at faint smiles fell flat while shaking his head.

"My mother.....", Miller's voice in English was low, something like shame within, as if fearful of busybody neighbors overhearing, "She's very sick, and it seems like her mind is slowly starting to..."

Snake nodded out of immediate understanding, jerking a thumb towards the front door. "This have something to do with that abandoned booth in your front yard?"

"Yeah." His sunglasses folded into against a hand, their eyes properly met. Those pale blues were rather striking against clear Japanese features, was immediately what John thought. "We used to run a business—I did most of the upkeep—but I'll be moving soon."

"Ah." Snake nodded, staying respectful by not questioning with another word. Yet the emptiness and loneliness within his own heart brought about, surprisingly enough...a joke. "Sure it's obvious I'm with the army, but I'm surprised your mom didn't remark how  _you're_ taller than me."

"I'm taller than you by only a few inches!" Kaz shook his head through laughter, unsure if he was happier at being able to laugh away his stress, or that he finally had made a friend. Those long, lonely, days of keeping shop alongside care-taking for his mother—in between high school (attendance paid in part with the money from their shop) private stresses of being an outcast—were emotional drains that he was frankly tired of keeping bottled up inside.

* * *

Sitting on the floor in Kazuhira's room, John casually scanned the perimeter. There were posters of well-endowed women plastered in choice spots on the walls. Bookcases were filled to the brim varying from history, military, to business with some novels or manga in the mix—an acoustic guitar carefully balanced against the side. A record player with numerous LPs of various genres took up with one shelf space, another shelf filled with model trains of various sizes. Those empty cardboard boxes caught his eye the most, but...Not now. He'd nap in one later in his hotel room. Maybe.

Miller sat on his western-style bed, guitar in his lap before plucking some chords at random.

Snake closed his good eye, letting the random notes that soon morphed into a popular Frank Sintara tune take him away. _The Way You Look Tonight_? Certainly soothing.

"So tell me about yourself, Big Boss." Kazuhira's tone was nonchalant, as if he brought up that day's weather forecast.

Snake, for his part, nearly choked from immediate discomfort. "I already told you it's Snake...And when the hell were you planning to tell me that _you knew_?"

His blonde friend chuckled. "I told you, I read things. We _do_ get the paper here. That was a pretty heroic thing you did, killing America's traitor and preventing nuclear anni—"

"I'm no hero." Big Boss snorted, not divulging any further. "So, that's the only reason you approached me? Because of my status?"

Grinning and setting his guitar back in its rightful place, Kaz made himself comfortable next to Snake's spot on the floor. This time, it was their knees that bumped while the cocky young man took his sweet time to respond. "Nah! I just found you interesting from the start."

"...Interesting, huh?"

"Yep."

Snake raised an eyebrow, Kazuhira's equal parts relaxed yet blunt attitude somewhat incomprehensible. This guy wasn't _anything_ like a typical Japanese man!

"Interesting, uh, _how_?"

The old adage 'actions speak louder than words' coming to his mental forefront, Miller's lips pressed into Snake's, his hands gently resting atop the older man's. Smiling warmly once their lips parted, he couldn't help but quip: "I've been waiting all day to do that."

Snake's clear blue eye wide, the stupefied spell he was under had broken. "What was  _that_ about? A nice kid like you doesn't like skirts?!" 

"Well, gender doesn't matter to me. I find people themselves more interesting."

Letting that statement hang in the air, Kazuhira was curious if Big Boss would catch on...

"...Huh."

Apparently, Snake didn't. Miller facepalmed despite a hearty laugh. "Don't worry about it. But I am curious about _you_. What do you plan to do from here on out?"

Shrugging the situation off, yet again John was unsure what to say, reminded for some reason of Ocelot. John wasn't exactly offended, just...confused.

"I'm not exactly looking for a relationship with another girl right now." A bitter edge to his voice, Snake remembered he hadn't had a good smoke since he and Kaz explored the city. He pocketed himself, playing with an unlit cigar—he'd make a point to _not_ smoke indoors—thinking of Eva's farewell message over cassette tape, and the painful truth behind The Boss's final mission...

At least neither(?) EVA nor ADAM attempted killing Snake at any point due to their personal promises with The Boss. 

Small victories, Snake supposed.

Sighing, he focused his attention back on Kazuhira. "About what I'll do now...I'm still thinking it over, honestly."

With that, they fell into light conversation. Just...talking. About themselves, and their hopes for the future. 

Kazuhira had "normal dreams"—for the time being, given his young age—of travelling to America and searching for his father. He gave the vaguest implications of the circumstances behind his birth—something the twenty-nine year old Big Boss  _wasn't_ so dense about.

Perhaps Miller would even attend a prestigious university once stateside? And then, find a high paying job so his mother wouldn't have to worry about anything in her current state—or if her condition deteriorated—ever again.

Snake had average goals more than dreams, at this point in life. To see where a military path would take him—through FOX, he assumed. His time in the Green Berets and other factions filled in that five year void over missing her. His Mercury Lady's mysterious absence due to the top-secret mission involving NASA, and the Space Race.

...Hm, come to think of it.

"Kaz."

Blinking, Kazuhira looked up, the sudden—honestly sweet—nickname startling him away from hopes about the future. "Huh?"

"If you ever need good work, an organization that won't judge you over race or gender, I know some people." His thoughts immediately went to Major Zero, and the FOX unit. 

Kaz's immediate, warm, smile was touching. "I'll keep that in mind." His hand once again fell atop Snake's, but this time the older man didn't pull away. 

"Hey, Snake. I just realized I don't even know your real name?"

A rather abrupt shrug of Snake's shoulders. "...Don't laugh. It's John Doe."

"Heh! Well, you don't _look_ like a corpse. Can I call you Johnny?"

Frowning, Snake remembered that "friend" with the bowel troubles guarding his Tselinoyarsk cell. Their brief chat, the other man's talk of loneliness, of missing his family. 

"Please don't. My nickname's Jack, but..." 

_They were huddled together, shoulder to shoulder, under piles of blankets on the couch, cozy from a roaring fireplace in their shared apartment not terribly far from CIA headquarters. A harsh winter day in March 1958, thanks to a massive snowstorm bombarding the East Coast. The couple were thankful they hadn't lost power. Not yet, at least._

_The rough weather understandably cancelled that day's plans: Refinement of some CQC techniques, alongside a regular workout session. Thankfully there was no strict schedule for either of them. After Jack returned from service at the Marshall Islands, shockingly with a clean bill of health besides being rendered sterile—their life together returned to a sense of normalcy. Safeguarding those weapons under testing that fateful day, alongside some war buddies..._ _the nineteen year old effectively walking away otherwise unscathed was a shock to his system. Many others in the line of duty hadn't been so lucky, illnesses or cancer taking their toll._

_Yet it's not like John ever considered kids, in his—rather, **their** —line of work. _

_The Boss's training, their refinements in CQC, her love...As long as John was by her side, a lifetime military career didn't sound bad at all_ _._

_The memories of his first kill, in Korea, something painfully unforgettable. Sniping an enemy soldier to prevent any casualties on their side, to their men scouting the forests. With trembling hands, nearly throwing that damn heavy M1903 Springfield down in shock of the aftermath, after the kick to it..._

_Kill or be killed, what history would come to remember as The Forgotten War wasn't just some war game, not anymore for Jack._ She  _had quickly gathered that half-sobbing seventeen year old into her arms, offering words of reassurance. "You had no choice. Jack, listen. Everyone feels sick the first time they kill someone."_

_Life being what it was, still, there was no greater satisfaction to either than the pride they felt, the loyalty to their country._

_Not wanting to overthink his path in life or his future, there was certainly more appeal to focusing on his present. Teeth almost comically chattering, John reached for his mug of hot cocoa—still warm as its name implied—eager to chug a good portion down. Falling snow outside their window would've been peaceful, if it wasn't such a hot mess._

_Joy held back a laugh, her amused blue-grays captivated by the dancing flames within the fireplace. "Who would've thought we'd have such bad weather at my age?"_

_Her companion snorted in-between more carefully paced sips of his drink. "You're 36. Don't turn yourself into an old lady just yet."_

_"And what about you?" Playfully smirking, she reached over to lightly tug at the twenty-three year old's beard. "Building yourself up to be a tough guy just because you finally grew this?"_

_The liquid contents of his throat nearly spilled every which way from laughter, before he caught himself and carefully swallowed the cocoa down. "Tough—You're kidding, right? I just think beards are cool. Only women and children don't have 'em!" He huffed slightly, attempting to hide the amusement in his own voice._

_At everything, Joy would one-up Jack—not that he had any room to complain—with all the respect, reverence, and love he held for her. Those sudden kisses she lightly planted across his beard was no exception, Jack chuckling at her feathery light touches, interlacing their fingers. He'd always wordlessly marvel at how soft her hands felt—expecting callouses—_ _given their mutual work._

_"About that project we talked about last week."_

_Joy nuzzled her head into his shoulder, his strong arm cradling her close. "The military surplus store? An excellent idea, but if we're called into duty at a moment's notice—"_

_"Uhh, well, we_ could _always retire early...?"_

_She chuckled, sitting upright while shaking her head. He was still so naive. And there was still much, much, more he had to learn about the world. About one another. But, this wasn't the time to overthink life. Jack leaned in, stroking her hair without giving it much thought. She was especially gorgeous wearing it down, like this afternoon._

_Joy took the presented opening, pushing him onto their couch, capturing his lips in a kiss. Melting into it, Jack's hands immediately found their way to the small of her back—hers reaching into his sweater to rub his chest, feel his skin—_ _the warmth of each other's bodies easily helped them forget those harsh conditions of the great outdoors._

_"...Jack."_

_Today's kisses felt different from occasional CQC sparring sessions that accidentally turned into something more. Moments of weakness where The Boss's wrong grab (she was only human, making occasional mistakes in training sessions, like anyone) to Jack's thigh instead of his leg, or his own prolonged gaze as she did cool down stretches, easily weakened their barriers._ _Soon enough losing composure and returning to their room hand in hand, their generally held-back sexual urges overpowering._

_Love. Today especially, that quiet realization struck them: Their gradual falling in love was a natural consequence to almost ten long years of camaraderie._

Jack died that day, in that blood-stained Star of Bethlehem field. It was John who continued to live on.

"It's Jack, but...I'd prefer not being called that."

Visibly shaken, Big Boss trailed off. What would she think of him, right now? Essentially taking time to run away from life, even if just a little while?

Noticing his friend's distraught mood, Miller followed through with the best way to cheer him up: Physical contact.

A hand falling to Snake's knee, Kazuhira spoke in the most soothing voice he could muster—in Japanese. "Say...When are you leaving Japan?"

The change of focus seemed to be just the trick needed. Not missing a beat, John's mouth automatically replied in the language before his brain could catch up.

"Let's see...Today's Sunday the 20th, isn't it?" Wednesday, September 2nd. That was the day Jack had pulled the trigger and

That clear blue eye, as _she_ had called it, closed. Jet lag was a hell of an issue; still disorientated from his arrival yesterday. "Two weeks from today. October 4th."

Curiously, Kaz looked away...embarrassed? A finger shyly ran across the seam of his blankets, while he switched to English. "Can I...catch a flight with you, back to the States?"

"Uh...sure?" Something told him even if they'd part ways—Snake returning to Langley, Kaz tracking down his father—that this wasn't the end. On the contrary, their friendship was just beginning. "What're you so flustered about, Kaz?"

"Nothing." Wearing his sunglasses once more, Kaz flashed a grin while offering a friendly pat to Snake's shoulder. "If you finally digested those Calorie Mates, why don't I treat you to some ramen?"

Grinning himself, little mental distractions working like a charm, Snake pulled the yelping blonde into a playful headlock. "As long as we don't spoil our appetite for tonight's curry-rice! Besides, you were nice enough to show me around town, so _I'm_  treating _you_. Let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't tear up writing the scene with Kaz's mom, nope, not one bit... (Ugly sobbing)


	2. 1972

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A butterfly effect grants Snake an eventual chance at peaceful(?) civilian life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't meant to turn into a multi-chapter work (I'm admittedly rusty on writing such) but some readers loved the idea of a continuation, so here we go! I hope to update once a week, but I'm not entirely sure of my schedule yet.

They thoroughly enjoyed their sushi dinner—her favorite—down by the boardwalk in Langley. Along soothing waves and salt water, stars twinkling in the evening sky were a romantic accompaniment. It certainly helped brighten John's occasional wavering spirits, dispatch mission after countless dispatch mission due to the Major's orders leaving him weary, more often than not.

“We’re not in any hurry to head back home, Snake. Let’s sit down and watch the stars.”

Her nose scrunched happily as she smiled with warmth in her eyes. John could only chuckle at Eva’s excitement, her gesturing for them to sit together on a nearby bench. She clearly had something important to tell him. Maybe something good happened at work today? There were some (frankly boring, from what John skimmed) reports herself and Ocelot—temporarily sitting tight at the mansion rather than ‘assisting’ the USSR with things—had been grueling ever since yesterday. Perhaps they finally found a workaround for that metaphorical wall they hit.

A little surprising then, that Clark or Zero himself wouldn't have chimed in about the good news.

“What’s up, Eva?” The slight chill in the evening air didn’t deter her happiness, but Jack having been raised by _her_ to treat women right meant he automatically reacted in shrugging off his coat, draping it over her shoulders.

Were there…tears in Eva’s eyes over the kind gesture?

“…Eva?”

Certainly weird. It wasn’t as if John’s good manners were a rare occurrence when it came to her, so what was going on?

“It’s nothing. I’m just so happy!” Shaking her head, some blonde locks bounced across her shoulders as she continued smiling, through her allegedly happy tears. “Strange that Para-Medic didn't tell you the news yet, but…”

John’s own amusement gave way to confusion rather than outright impatience. “Uh. What news?”

“I’m pregnant with twins.” She was beaming through light, happy, laughter. “There were various…complications in the beginning, but Para-Medic gave me the official word on the matter yesterday. Isn’t it wonderful, Snake?”

Snake blinked twice, lightly poking at her belly without giving her words initially much thought.

“While the sushi’s a concern, that explains why you’ve been sticking to water on our dates lately. So, who’s the lucky fella?”

A twinge of jealousy flickered in the thirty-seven year old’s good eye, keeping his gaze even with hers.

“You mean you don’t…” Loud, raucous, laughter escaped Eva’s lips, Snake silently thankful there were no passersby near. “The man I’ve been dating these past—Wow, has it been almost 2 years since you rescued me in Hanoi?”

A sudden groan escaping his lips meant Eva needed to hurry up and get to the point. Whoops.

Wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him in for a hug, her smile grew warm once more. Her eyes full of something like…love.

“You. Considering you’re sterile, you and Para-Medic talked about the procedure beforehand, right?”

The expression on Snake’s face was utterly blank. “What procedure of Clark’s? When?”

Eva cocked her head to the side, holding her chin in thought. “About a month back? Like I said, there were various complications that—”

Huffing, Snake abruptly stood, momentarily forgetting he wasn’t wearing his jacket to adjust it. His lighter and a fresh cigar to mentally unwind with, too, were trapped in his coat pocket.

Damn.

Memories flooded back to a particularly rough night’s sleep a month ago. Eva was asleep in her own room that night. Alone, John tossed and turned with some blankets tousled about his legs, irritated at feeling something like a mosquito constantly pricking his skin. Lost within heavy deep sleep due to a frankly exhausting extraction mission that weekend, Snake wasn’t bound to wake up anytime soon. Having noticed strange marks across both arms the next morning—as if poked about with needles—John’s jaw, presently, set tight.

 _So_ that’s _how they decided to play it? ...Zero..._

Despite his blood running cold, John couldn’t exactly blame Eva for her feelings. For loving him. Slowly taking in a breath with his eye closed, this utter betrayal, this lack of proper consent, was something he simply couldn’t forgive.

“Don’t want to hear ‘em right now. Sorry Eva, but I need to have a little _chat_ with Doctor Clark.”

Giving a start as she stood, Eva was certainly surprised to see Snake beginning to walk off. Sighing, she took off in a light jog to catch up. So much for him acting like a gentleman…

“Right now? Snake, wait!”

* * *

Light classical music wafted throughout the rather large office, curtains shut for the evening. A roaring fireplace against the wall adjacent to his desk set the comfortable mood. Illuminating his contemplative features.

Quietly sipping from his cup of evening tea, his eyes fell to the rotary phone on his spotless wooden desk, piles of various paperwork set tidy, nearby. Carefully returning the liquid contents to its rightful place atop the saucer, he let out a breath while picking up his phone’s receiver…and momentarily debated.

It was apparent that Jack’s loyalty was slipping. Something had to be done. He shuddered to think that if…

If the worst had happened to his dear friend—God forbid, a mission going south—considering Big Boss was only human, as they all were…

He could only shake his head, heavily sighing.

Soon approaching sixty-three himself, David perfectly understood that nothing in life lasted forever. Especially in the case of a brilliant military strategist such as Big Boss, something _needed_ to remain. That something, with the help of Para-Medic, Eva, and countless others in their organization's medical facilities…would ensure their future remained bright.

The Major's brilliant in his own right XO—continuing his own admirable work—wasn’t necessary damage control. A situation like this would require a more…personal…touch.

Dialing various strings of numbers while nodding slightly to himself, indeed, this was the right path.

Certainly, _she_ would have been proud of Jack’s vast achievements and accomplishments—not to mention his constantly outstanding good conduct whether he was on deployment, or during times of rest.

Perhaps ensuring wires were crossed—that things were easily traceable—for the majority of outgoing, personal, calls from the mansion would’ve looked bad from an outsider’s perspective, yet Sigint’s assistance with such matters was from a purely protection—safety—standpoint, in David’s mind.

The other end of the line rang three times before it was picked up, connection made. A male voice calmly offered in Japanese, “Miller residence.”

Major Zero’s lips quirked upwards, into a smirk. This was certainly for the best. It was quite evident the Ocelot would do whatever it would take to look after Jack—yet the more friends Jack kept close by, the better.

A man in Big Boss’s position couldn’t be too careful, after all.

“Kazuhira Miller, I’m a friend of Jack’s…well, I suppose you know him better as Big Boss, yes? Could you give me a moment of your time?”

* * *

“Snake, you can’t be serious about leaving.”

A huff while eyeing his suitcase. “Adam, could you hand me that sweater over there?”

Groaning, Adam obliged before crossing his arms and leaning back against a wall within John’s room. His scowl kept its focus on the plush carpet. Damn, that was such an ugly shade of green. What was Zero thinking?

“Where will you go?”

An unlit cigar was loosely resting between John’s lips. “Haven’t thought that far ahead. But there’s a nice hotel I can stay at for the next few days. Plenty of money in my bank account, you know.”

Adam snorted. Did he just roll his eyes, or was John seeing things?

“What’s the big deal?” Brows furrowed. “You’re in Russia more often than not. And it’s not like we’ll lose touch.”

A shake of Ocelot’s head. “That’s…Look, it’s not the point.”

As he looked up, their eyes met.

“Is runnin’ away like this how _she_ would’ve wanted to you act?”

Snake certainly rolled his own eye at those words. “She’d expect me to adapt to whatever situation thrown my way and react accordingly. Just like she expects from you, or Zero, or anyone. Besides, it’s not like I’m some saint.”

“John—”

Snake's duffel bag slung over his shoulder, John took once last look about his tidy room. Nothing was out of place. Anything he couldn’t carry was unnecessary—his dismantled M1911A1, safely stored away and strictly meant for personal protection whenever off-duty—was certainly something he wouldn’t leave behind.  

“I still have to talk to Eva. Say our goodbyes.”

John rubbed his good eye before raising the same hand to tighten her bandana—

“Let me.” Before Snake could protest, Ocelot’s tender touch—his own calloused fingers due to work—smoothed out any creases against the faded green artifact. His gray eyes were gentle.

As quickly as the moment had passed, Jack saw _her_ smile in that kind expression, despite _his_ voice being the one to add: “There. Good as new.”

Snake slightly cocked his head to the side, taking in that calm look Ocelot was offering. Just standing there, his hands on his hips with an honest smile on his face. Their eyes still locked.

“Regardless of _her_ personal desires, everyone has to walk their own path. Zero with his concerns of how worn out you’ve been lately, Eva’s news about your little bundles of joy—I’ll gladly admit she’s lucky and I’m glad she knows it—and then you, with your calling to the battlefield.”

John scratched his beard, straightening, momentarily forgetting about the unlit smoke. “…Lucky?”

Adam replied with a slight laugh, with another shake of his head. This…was tough. “Don’t worry about it.”

“So…what about you, Junior?”

“Me?” The cat smirked, in one swift motion, kneeling before tenderly kissing John’s hand.

“My loyalty is to the end…towards you.”

“I…Erm…Well. Adam…?”

Shit.

Good thing Eva wasn’t watching this, the generallly unshakable John decided, as his cheeks grew beet red. Bizarre, jealous, cat-fights—given Ocelot, that description was _too_ apt—was the last thing needed on his plate right now.

He was pulled into a tight hug by the skinnier—although slightly taller, to John’s chagrin—man, Ocelot’s hands flat on Big Boss’s upper back, rubbing in comforting circles.

Breathing in his neck and the clean scent of his shampoo, Ocelot held back a dismayed sigh that Snake smelled vaguely of Eva. Their date earlier that night.

Of course.

Slipping into a thick Texan accent, Adamska’s moist grays closed.

“Darlin’, with all due respect? Shut up. Just give me this moment.”

Still spluttering while returning the hug—physical affection between them, generally initiated by Adam wasn’t unusual in and of itself—Snake felt himself swallowing hard, despite the warmth enveloping his heart and that sudden ache within his stomach.

“…I’m sorry.”

Hug tightening, Snake was absolutely certain Adam rolled his eyes again while speaking.

“Quit with the apologies, John. It’s fine.”

Noticing something stir out of the corner of his eye, Snake could’ve froze there on the spot. The crack in the doorway revealed a quickly retreating flash of long, blonde, hair.

Just how much did she hear?

At least her numerous hints during Operation Snake Eater finally clicked—Big Boss would have to happily, mentally, gloss over this tiny detail that Ocelot had to be direct to someone as dense as himself.

* * *

Through tears and sad smiles, they talked openly, at length. Holding hands through numerous farewell kisses, they vowed to keep in touch, regardless of wherever the road took either of them.

He didn't think a goodbye to Eva would be so incredibly hard.

Nose scrunched up in a sniffle while trekking down the vast hallways of the mansion, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, an unfamiliar blonde quietly stared right at him. There, in the center of the hallway.

For some reason, Sokolov’s words came to mind: _“I have no love for this place.”_

How apt.

Squinting, Snake…honestly couldn’t tell if the woman before him was a teenager, or simply petite.

“…Uh?”

“He wanted you to have this.”

Her eyes were sad. This girl spoke in standard American dialect, like himself, despite her slightly tanned complexion.

Nodding, John accepted the envelope, tucking it into his inner jacket pocket. Opening it in front of a stranger felt decidedly awkward. “Thanks. You are?”

Snake finally realized this blonde was decked out military fatigues—did she partake in Zero's training regimen in those facilities next door? He'd only heard whispers about it, himself.

She just shook her head. “It doesn't matter. Look after yourself.”

“…Right.” After a moment of quiet contemplation, John added with a weak smile, “You too.”

The faintest of smiles made its way across her face before Pacifica quietly left for the elevators. Big Boss’s retreating footsteps rang in her ears, the elevator’s _ding_ a dull ache in comparison.

Her ‘uncle’ Zero required a word about their insurance policies and Big Boss’s future.

* * *

Checking into his intentionally darkened hotel room on the outskirts of town, tiredly plunking down face first on top his clean bed upon dropping his duffel bag, Snake’s eye slowly took notice of the phone atop his dresser.

His leather jacket, most importantly with his beloved cigars retained within, lay disheveled on the floor, near that single bag.

Stomach full of coffee and a large submarine sandwich, he honestly wondered if sleep would come to him, tonight. The envelope and its enclosed letter—a heartfelt written apology from Zero—crumpled within Snake’s back pants pocket.

Pants…He should drop ‘em and get comfy in his boxers. He _hated_ wearing pants. His light shirt could go, too. Hm…Were there any nudist colonies nearby?

An ambulance siren blaring down the street as quickly as it came, bright red lights making its presence known across the shadows of his wall, somehow…

That sound outside John’s otherwise quiet street merely amplified his sudden loneliness.

Utter solitude. Throwing away many years of friendship, a few years of a place to call home, with several important people due to personal, unforgivable, hurt…

Was Jack honestly in the wrong, here?

Either way, his calculations thankfully weren’t off that midnight here meant 1300 hours in Japan…

Dare he call international to catch up with an old friend? It wasn’t as if he was personally hurting for money.

After dialing the number upon a verified overseas connection, John waited, thankful to hear ringing on the other end.

A voice—decidedly tired—picked up after two rings, answering “Hello?” in Japanese.

John shut his eye before forcing a happy front, all grins. “Hey, Kaz.”

Kaz almost immediately replied…with seemingly forced cheerfulness, himself.

“Snake, hey! Listen, I’m sorry I didn’t write back yet. Thanks for the photo of you and Eva, it’s hanging here in my room.” A pause. “The illness overtook my mother, and…well…”

Snake’s heart sank at the heavy implications. In their rather brief meeting, she seemed like such a kind woman. “I’m sorry to hear that. How long ago?”

“Two years back.”

“Why the _hell_ didn’t you ever tell me, man?”

John’s thoughts drifted back to his most recent letter, from the middle of last month…It included mostly little things, such as Adam and especially Eva interested in meeting Kaz sometime, although Snake alluded to the stress of his job—even a warrior like him needed a few days off, which had been rarely granted permission. It would always end in bickering with Zero.

“I didn’t want you to worry about me, given how busy work keeps you. Besides, I’ve kept plenty busy myself, after university. Though the JDSF has a boring office job component to it, and umm…Maybe I have a _slight_ problem with authority?”

There was a nervous edge to Kazuhira clearing his throat. “A-anyway, I keep toying with the idea of returning to the States. Clearing my head would be good, considering.”

Snake’s eyebrows raised while he lay atop his now uncovered bed, his eye focused on the ceiling which was illuminated only by the city lights outside. A deep fatigue from this emotionally draining day meant his usual smoke before bed was the last thing on his mind.

“Really. Let’s talk about that, hm?”

Miller blinked on his end of the line. Phone cradled between his ear and shoulder while sitting on his bed, his hands were busy fiddling about with a train set Snake generously mailed him as a Christmas gift the past winter.

The stillness, the loneliness, of his quiet house that used to brim with as much life as two people could muster still got to him, at times. “…Huh?”

At least it was refreshing to have a well-deserved day off, not needing to worry about some of his nosey office neighbors who otherwise wouldn’t give him the time of day due to his background.

“Kaz, if you’re looking for a change of pace, here’s what I was thinking…”

Intently listening to Snake’s abrupt suggestions of them moving in together, Miller was secretly thrilled, but...It was certainly the last thing he expected to hear on his otherwise quiet afternoon!

Today's two rather different phone calls from Langley made Kazuhira take pause.

Just what kind of crazy events transpired over there?


	3. 1974

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snake and Kaz attempt sharing a normal life together—as normal as things can be for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My schedule turned a little hectic, after all! Applying and being accepted for the In Defense of Peace MGS Kaz Zine (Preorders this month (July), check out their Twitter/Tumblr for more info~) took up a good chunk of my time, but I'm back now ^_^

_As they walked hand-in-hand along those bustling city streets, enjoying Italian food and some wine for lunch was a refreshing change of pace._

_A pleasantly sunny day in 1959 for DC, he had somewhat curiously glanced at a military surplus store they passed by on the sidewalk. She was standing behind him, desperately attempting to hold back laughter._

_He blinked at the sound, sheepishly removing his palms from the glass windows (customers seemed understandably hesitant at the large man peering within), turning to meet her amused gaze._

_“What is it?”_

_“As happy as I am to see you so focused on work,_ you _need to enjoy your time off while it's here.”_

_She was in work jeans—shocking for the time—with her bandana tied across the sleeve of her blouse, while he was wearing a dress shirt with a tie and some pants—although he felt a little foolish, somewhat stuffy, in such 'nice' clothes._

_“You’re right.” He hoped she wouldn’t notice his slightly burning cheeks while she offered her hand. He silently accepted as they fell into mutual, silent, smiles._

_Walking along the street hand in hand, without having to worry about work, or training, for once…Being off-duty and enjoying one another’s company like this was…peaceful._

_Almost a pity that peaceful days like this were such a rarity in itself._

* * *

“So after making the incision, that’s when I said to him—Erm, hello? Are you still following along, John?”

He now longed for those days, pain seeping into his heart during caught off-guard moments like these.

The other male voice brought him back to reality inside the quaint shop, John offering a slight smile. Still somewhat difficult, but at least it didn’t hurt like his forced smiles during the late ‘60’s.

“Oh, sorry. What’s up?”

A friend of his and Kaz's from the past year, the local doctor named Ahab grinned, goodnaturedly shaking his head. With coffee cup in one hand and a local bay area newspaper in the other, it was nice to visit during much-needed downtime.  “Don’t worry about it, I’ll finish my story another time. But have you seen this?”

Newspaper spread across the counter top, he pointed to a front page article, happily exclaiming, “Seems like some messes in South America finally quieted down. Isn’t it great that the Sandinistas can gain independence in times like these?”

“Mh, it is.” Lone eye narrowed while skimming the article in question, Snake knew exactly _who_ must've gotten involved to stop such situations from escalating further, an organization that either side of this potentially thawing Cold War knew nothing about.

The organization that watched all.

Hiding in plain sight within the U.S. perhaps wasn’t a wise move, considering…But he’d deal with any lackeys of Zero’s as the situation would require. (His current living arrangements were 100% Kaz’s fault, anyway.)

Glancing at his watch, Ahab frowned before adjusting his coat and tossing his finished paper coffee cup into the trash. “I have some things to take care of before my shift today, so I’ll see you around. Oh—and I don’t want to hear about you ‘forgetting’ your checkup on the 12th.”

John forced another smile, waving goodbye from behind the counter. “I won’t. My doc’s a bigger stickler about health then you are.”

Ahab waved goodbye with the hand that held his paper before opening and quietly exiting. Gone in an instant.

John, alone once more, let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Perhaps he wasn’t cut out for a painfully normal life like this, after all. His wild idea about getting a place with Kaz two years back eventually led them to a small, cheap, two-bedroom apartment in San Francisco. Quiet neighborhood, near the bay—Kaz insisted that they just _had_ to live somewhere close to the ocean; it reminded him of home back in Japan, but John couldn’t help suspect this city was chosen for more…personal motives.

It had come as a huge shock, then, that Kaz didn’t do much dating with anyone—sure, there was flirting at the occasional bars they’d together attend for a night of drinking and socializing, but other than that…Other than that, Kaz seemed to prefer John’s company, despite them being roommates and coworkers.

Perhaps that was actually co-owners…?

Despite the government continuing to take _very_ good financial care of him due to Operation Snake Eater, John had to keep himself busy somehow. Becoming a full-time butcher at the local deli a few blocks from their house was the perfect distraction (after all, killing animals for nourishment was one of Snake’s necessary talents). Kazuhira, meanwhile, had been asking around on the best means to start a business—thus, this military surplus store fell into their lap. All thanks to the elderly couple who were looking to retire that previously owned this place. Businessman that he was, Kaz himself couldn't sit still without something major to occupy his time.

The only real concern Snake and Kazuhira had to worry about—once this building was brought up to code and the legal documents were transferred—was excitable kids wanting more dangerous souvenirs like grenades, either man redirecting them to more innocuous fare such as helmets, much to the relief of anxious mothers.

Snake adjusted the weathered bandana across his brow. Ocelot's words, too, had struck a deep chord within. He’d attempt a life of peace, see what else this wide world had to offer outside of war, yet…

It wasn’t easy.

Occasionally awakening, trembling, to the screams from his own raw voice, against sweat-stained bedsheets…

Kaz eventually insisted they share a bed. Snake couldn't agree to attending therapy, but…

Begrudgingly, John agreed they share _his_ bed—It seemed Kaz’s personal motives were becoming increasingly obvious. Yet he couldn’t find himself complaining about an affectionate squeeze on the shoulder here, or occasional compliments on how good he looked that day. The attention was welcome; it helped distract him from the guilt and sadness over  _her_.

Let alone his missing EVA and Ocelot, but that was where occasionally exchanging letters helped lessen the pain—Both quickly wised up, fast, to  _not_ mention the sons in any capacity.

If it weren't for those three boys, perhaps Big Boss becoming Zero's personal God among military leaders would've been an easier pill to swallow.

Still bitter, yet slightly easier.

“So how’s it look, Snake?”

Snake blinked at the presence emerging from the back of the store, splotches of paint covering the faded jeans and t-shirt the blonde currently wore. Going by any other name around Kaz was just awkward. The younger man was holding up a new sign to be hung above the exterior of their shop, beaming all the while.

Silently scrutinizing the colorful sign, John at length commented: “You missed a spot.”

“Aw, shoot. Back to work!” Clicking his tongue, Kaz returned to the back room with sign in hand.

Shaking his head, John was surprised at the genuine smile crossing his lips. Five customers in the morning plus Ahab making a lunchtime visit wasn’t half-bad at all.

* * *

After a long day of selling various goods—either for retired military searching for nostalgia, or the general enthusiasts out there—upon locking up, it was time to head home. At least they could have a bit of fun while heading back.

Cruising along the San Francisco Bay in his Triumph Bonneville, John had to admit the sea breeze in the air and gentle wind against his face was refreshing. He was more than accustomed to these evening rides home, yet something about them never failed to rejuvenate his heart amidst those internal stresses.

Kaz, for his part, enjoyed that chilly scent of the sea. His eyes fell to the distant Golden Gate Bridge, and those winding turns of the city.

Both forgetting the pain of their old lives, starting anew together…Somehow, it was liberating.

“What’s up?”

Despite keeping his good eye on the road ahead, John could feel Kaz’s eyes on him—behind those aviators of his.

“…It’s nothing.” His hug against Snake’s waist tightened as they continued to coast along. Even through Snake’s leather jacket, Kaz could feel the warmth of his strong body as the sun’s rays began to die down.

At a stop sign, one of Snake’s fingerless-gloved hands rested atop Kaz’s. For a moment they stayed like that, in something of an embrace, before the engine revved up as they continued their leisurely drive for some food and then home.

Quiet gratitude that their recently acknowledged feelings were the same. 

* * *

Some days later, Kaz was given the (honestly boring) task of running various errands as Snake looked after things. Thankfully the bank, laundromat, and sandwich shop (for a 4 PM lunch, given how busy their store was today) were all within walking distance that the time seemed to quickly fly by.

It was once Kaz began making his way back, carefully balancing their bagged and clean laundry alongside unopened lunch, that contact occurred.

Merely bumping shoulders with a man in a trench coat, Kazuhira didn’t pay much mind to it, until…

“Oh, excuse me.”

The unfamiliar voice with a slight accent—hard to decipher from where, perhaps a European country?—politely offered.

“No, it was my fault.”

Nodding his head while weakly chuckling, the smile forming on Kaz’s lips immediately began to fade. Something akin to fear—a cold sweat—overtook Kaz as eye contact was initiated. “…Um.”

The man offered a thin smile of his own, undeterred by public reactions to his scarred face at this stage in his life. “From a village bombing in my youth. My body was boiled in oil. Hideous, no?”

“……” All he could do was quietly close his mouth, gaze averted. No words _could_ form, a stunned silence from this brief yet depressing tale.

The other man chuckled lowly, offering a tip of his ten-gallon hat, before spinning his heels and leaving Kazuhira to his own thoughts.

* * *

John’s eyebrows raised, smiling at the sight of Kaz managing to pry open the shop door with his butt. Summer would soon be coming to an end, a slight chill in the air signifying the beginning of the Bay Area’s rainy season. Crisp Fall leaves and hot cocoa indoors always made for a pleasant time, he felt.

“A little help?”, his partner grunted, with John immediately at the man’s side to set their lunch atop the counter.

Kaz snorted while hoisting up the bags of laundry, heading for the back room. “Of course, you take the food.”

His eyes fell to a petite blonde—she couldn’t have been much older than Kaz himself—patiently waiting at the counter, flashing him a cheerful smile.

“Oh, hello!”

Something about her eyes seemed oddly serious for a regular customer.

“Hi there. Sna—John can help you with whatever you’re looking for.” He offered a lopsided grin, charm at full force, nodding towards his handful of bags.

The blonde woman giggled, politely covering her mouth with a hand as she did so.

It had clicked for Kaz, eyes slightly narrowed, as he headed for the back then their storage closet, to sort away the uniforms and other odds and ends. His talk with Zero several years prior…That man’s genuine concern about ‘Jack’s’ overall safety.

She must’ve been one of his people here to check up on things, which Miller supposed was fine if no trouble brewed, yet…

What _was_ with Miller’s encounter today with the unsettling man a few streets down? His appearance wasn’t the only thing creepy. Something about his cold smile, too…

Shaking his head to clear it, Miller’s gurgling stomach decided for him to set aside such thoughts for now. Returning to the front of the store, the radio faintly playing a tune by Weather Report eased his heart, at least somewhat.

He overheard part of a conversation while retrieving his wrapped sandwich from the lunch bag. Snake already wolfed down his BLT, customers generally not bothered by the two shopkeepers eating during work—It was this former military man’s large appetite that shocked most!

“Oh, yes, this vacation in San Francisco has been most wonderful!” The blonde who introduced herself as Paz to Big Boss cheerfully exclaimed before resting a finger against her chin in thought.

“Although I’m not sure how to say this, but your sign outside…”

“Hm?” John wiped a few remaining crumbs away from his beard with a curious eye.

“You missed a spot.”

Immediately, Snake sighed. “ _Still_?”

Kaz had already set his sandwich down before returning with can of paint and a brush to fix the silly thing once and for all. “I’m on it, Bo—Snake.” Bad idea to use his old code name around _that man’s_ people.

Pacifica couldn’t help but smirk at Big Boss, her understanding crystal clear.

“You have such a charming personality, you know. I find it hard to take my eyes off you.” She tapped her right eye for emphasis, unable to suppress her grin. In truth, this man in his late thirties  _was_ easy on the eyes. And her sightseeing _had_ been rather fun so far.

John offered a grin. “Honestly, I never know if it’s the eyepatch or the beard that does it.”

Leaning against the counter while propping her elbows up and resting her chin above her hands, Paz winked. “It’s both~”

John chuckled at the flattery, her adorable nature infectious. “Tell me, what’s a cute girl like you interested in, anyway?”

“I’ve been eyeing those M1911A1 ammunition shells as an interesting souvenir. What do you think?”

“Not a bad choice at all. I used the gun during my army days.”

Her impressed gaze shifted towards Kaz outside, who was admiring his own handiwork with crossed arms, before her eyes fell upon Big Boss once more.

“Your…partner…is helpful, no?”

Snake blinked while chucking his now crumpled bag into the trash. “You mean Kaz? Er…Yeah?”

The giggle as her response was his immediate tip off.

Grumbling a bit, Snake shook his head. “Very funny. It's _not_ like that between me and Ka—”

“There we go, good as new!”

Thankful the sign situation was  _finally_   conquered, Miller returned with the paint bucket and brush, cheerfully slapping Snake’s ass before disappearing into the back room.

Immediately, John began to scowl while Paz’s held-back giggles gave way to heavy laughter.

She brought a chocolate bar in stock (it'd keep any visiting kids busy, and John enjoyed them every so often, himself) along her purchase, cheerfully waving goodbye.

She sat on a bench a few feet away, thoughtfully nibbling on the treat. She supposed Zero would enjoy the gift, as a sign that Big Boss was safe…potentially…happy.

Perhaps she’d stay just a few more days before returning to the Langley facilities. No reason she couldn’t enjoy some measure of rest and relaxation. Her grueling, many, years of training left ‘Paz’ fatigued, more often than not.


	4. 1984

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snake and Kaz running their military surplus store together is met with several ups and downs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having your story outlines right on hand or not, writer's block is the absolute worst.
> 
> So thankful I finally finished this chapter! Next update is the epilogue (please enjoy it)! That should be in another day.
> 
> Rating jumped from T to M in this chapter for butt-covering purposes. No violence worse than canon (for comparison: my Parasite Kaz AU fic *felt* more disturbing).

Adjusting to civilian life had gotten easier with time as his guide, as the years marched on. Business for their little shop was going well, life relatively comfortable (provided he wouldn’t have to deal with the sons anytime soon)…All in all, John had no room for complaints.  

Especially currently, with that comfortable warmth radiating from his midsection, his fingers tenderly stroking blonde hair as Kaz lay against his belly, sound asleep.

Like any couple, they had their good days and their occasional arguments. But laying with Kaz on this quiet, rainy, Sunday morning (the shop was closed that day), there was nowhere else Snake could imagine he’d rather be.

“…Hm.”

Snake’s good eye made its way to the ceiling, contemplative. His idle hand fell atop her faded bandana on their nightstand, lightly brushing his fingers across the relic with the same tenderness he caressed Kazuhira.

Accepting a peaceful life—he hoped that was, after all, in accordance with _her_ wishes—had been achieved through much uncertainty, and with various guidance, but it seemed he—for better or worse—had stayed under the radar; kept to himself.

Visiting the local shooting range and his occasional telephone chats with EVA and Adamska helped ease that wavering pull.

The call to return to the battlefield.

Frankly, playing errand boy for Zero in the early 70’s soured John on the entire affair. Valuing his privacy, he’d share his vast knowledge or amusing war stories at the surplus store to keep his mind steady.

That blonde woman—Paz—who he initially met upon leaving Zero and company, to this day would occasionally visit the shop, whenever she was ‘in town’ every few months. John said nothing about it, honestly enjoying her company while they’d exchange pleasantries or occasional cups of coffee together, while she’d play the part of an innocent tourist. Feigned ignorance that was mutually beneficial, John supposed.

His eye fell upon a simple golden band against his left ring finger. Kaz wore one, too. A quiet promise of commitment rather than an outright marriage proposal—unfortunately, a complex situation simply because they were both men—yet Snake’s own past with EVA brought about slight resentment towards the idea.

Deep down, Jack already knew. The only person he could be fully committed to spiritually, eternally, was no longer here.

At least cohabiting, and eventually, mutually, (a certain blonde rather quickly) falling for one another in this peaceful life was honestly…nice…Despite the quaint nature of it all.

Due to this Cold War, Kaz once brought up an interesting point that the way life currently was, it might as well be called ‘world peace’. Perhaps there was some truth to that outlook, despite the struggles within various European countries in their own fight for independence once more.

Senses not dull with age just yet, movement from the corner of his eye caused a smile across John’s face. Kaz stirred from sleep, at length blinking, before their eyes met.

Kaz immediately smiled warmly, despite Snake’s own shyness about it. “Morning, Snake.”

“You sleep long enough? It’s already 10.”

A playful punch to Snake’s arm was Kazuhira’s retaliation before he sat upright, stretching.

“Who cares, when the weather’s like this! What should we do today?”

Leaning over the edge of their bed to retrieve his boxers was Kaz’s first mistake, before muscular arms wrapped around his chest, pulling the younger of the two back in bed. A moan escaping his lips, he smirked as Snake began planting soft kisses against his neck, his jawline…

Lightly chuckling, his hand found one of Snake’s, their fingers interlacing as the kisses continued. “Believe it or not, I’m still worn out from last night.”

A snort. “Kaz, that’s on you for insisting we have fun in the shower  _and_ bed.”

“Hey, if you can think of a better way to celebrate after we finally sold the last of that backlogged inventory, I’d like to hear—”

Snake's lips capturing his own while calloused hands roughly tangled his hair, Kazuhira quickly shut up once he felt Snake pull him close. Not bothering to hide his grin, he conceded this was a _much_ better way to spend their morning than lightly bickering.

* * *

The motorcycle engine died down as early morning sunlight warmed their bodies. Snake and Kaz offered one another relaxed smiles, gathering their helmets before walking to the front to open up shop, avoiding any puddles from yesterday’s gloomy spring rainstorm.

Just another day, another dollar for their military surplus store. Yet an unpleasant surprise took them aback from this otherwise mundane life.

The gathering crowd of spectators offered concerned murmurs among themselves, keeping a respectable distance away from shards of broken glass in one of the storefront windows that confirmed the worst: Somebody decided to have a little ‘fun’ at the expense of their business.

“John! You guys okay?”

Both men turned at the waving man in pants and a shirt pushing past the small crowd to catch up with them. He was out of breath, shaking his head at the sight before them.

“Need help filing the reports? I can’t believe it, this is usually such a quiet part of town…”

Forcing cheerfulness, Kaz flashed a smile before roughly patting Snake’s back. He was oddly quiet, a shard of glass that glimmered in the sunlight caught his functioning eye.

“Hey, Vince! Thanks, but we’ll manage.”

Both Kaz and Vincent exchanged looks, their uncertainty rising in how to handle the other man.

Snake so deathly silent was a well-known indicator that he was at his most untamed. Ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

A change of topic in order, Kazuhira shook his head before smiling lopsided. “So tell me, who’s the cute brunette with the ponytail we saw at the club Saturday night?”

Vincent shrank back at the extreme interest from his friend, knowing full well he wouldn’t hear the end of it. “You mean Stephanie?” A warm smile made its way across his face in remembering their first encounter, quite literally bumping into one another at a bookstore last month.

“Honestly, we’re both the quiet type. Her insisting on seeing you all was a surprise; we usually prefer to stay at home reading, or watching movies together.”

The small crowd began to dissipate, still murmuring to one another how not even the nice areas were safe nowadays, or falling into local gossip about recent news stories. Snake was still silent as Kaz and Vincent forced some semblance of a positive conversation together.

Miller lifted his aviators slightly to wink. “Promise me you won’t let a cutie like her go?”

Shaking his head, Vince chuckled before checking his watch. “I’m meeting her since we have today off. Don’t be a stranger if you both need anything.” His narrowing eyes locked with John. “That especially goes for you, got it? You have my number if you’re not doing well.”

The good doctor knew all about John’s prior incidences with PTSD, certain forms of anxiety or other mental ailments never truly went away, but they were something that could be _managed_ with proper treatment—including strong emotional support.

Snake merely grunted an acknowledgment before Vincent sighed in defeat, walking off.

Shaking his head, Kazuhira waved goodbye. He was thankful his prior adrenaline rush startled heartbeat had finally calmed down some. Still, how the hell could he reassure Snake in the midst of a foul mood? It was _always_ an uphill battle, usually a small amount of physical space gave that man the means to calm himself, somewhat.

All Kaz could do was offer a comforting squeeze on Snake’s shoulder. “I’ll file the necessary police reports, Snake. There’s a good chance they can recover our inventory easily, right?”

The former military-man nodded, his lips drawn in a tight line, too on edge to offer another grunt to his companion.

Kaz sighed. His hand hadn’t left Snake’s side, preferring some _vague_ confirmation of ‘We’ll be okay’ to this stunned silence he was on the receiving end of. With much reluctance, his fingers slipped away from Snake to carefully sidestep broken glass, entering their halfway-busted front door.

“…Next time, remember to lock up.”

Snake’s eye was narrowed, coldly, after offering the quiet reprimand.

Kaz ignored his own shaky fists clenching, that sudden heat in his face reddening from anger.

No. He wouldn’t fall into such a childish pissing contest about whose fault this break-in was.

It was best to simply let it all go and clean up the current mess, entering the shop.

Flattened cardboard boxes were askew across the floor (Snake would’ve wept at the sight). At least half of their old uniforms, helmets, and pamphlets had been raided from the shelves and hangers. Bills worth $500 USD total had been forcibly removed from the currently open cash register; even their small display of chocolate bars and soda offered for sale hadn’t gone untouched. Some melted chocolate wrappers littered the floor on the customer side of their checkout desk.

Kazuhira groaned, loudly.

What a headache—and it wasn’t just the upcoming paperwork. If he was lucky, Snake would return in better spirits with a cake for them to split from that one cafe down the street. Apology enough, Kaz reasoned, hiding the growing smile as he reached for their work phone.

* * *

“You worry too much about Miller.”

Setting his cup of honey-sweetened black tea atop his saucer, Ocelot continued while rolling his eyes. “He’s a grown man. He can easily handle getting help from the cops.”

Snake made a face in between sips of hot black coffee, ignoring the steam from his own cup.

“That’s not the point, Adam! I just feel…what’s that word…for going off on him like that.”

New Order’s “Blue Monday” wafted from the outdoor speakers of the coffee house’s patio as other patrons fell into light conversation while enjoying their own drinks. John had to privately admit (on the off-chance Adam would tease him), this ‘80’s music was pretty catchy stuff.

Catlike grays widened in genuine amusement. “You mean guilty?” He helped himself to another slice of cheesecake, evenly cutting off a piece before placing it on his plate, almost chewing with elegance.

“Nice to get reminders about your own humanity every so often, now isn’t it, darlin’?”

John rolled his own eye before slightly adjusting his leather jacket. “Oh, shut up. You know, you could have _told_ me you were in town instead of practically dragging me over here just now.”

“And where’s the fun in that?” Truthfully, Adam had ‘swung by’ in hopes of discussing business—evidently, now was not the time. Zero’s health would occasionally waver despite the British gentlemen's own stubborn insistence that he was perfectly fine, at the peak of health, at seventy-five years old. As for the ‘sons’…David and George were living as they had been, separately born and raised in Patriot facilities within the States, with Eli these days apparently miserable in England.

If something went amiss in his current visit and worse came to worse, well, Ocelot’s Tornado-6’s were safely concealed within his holster. Civilians knew well enough to leave this intimidating-looking cowboy alone. Ocelot had absolutely no interest in messing with civilians, leaving most to themselves, unless some sort of harm ever came to _his_ John.

John sighed at Ocelot’s calm reply before lighting up a cigar. In the rush of making an early day at the shop (so much for _that_ idea, due to the irritating aftermath), he neglected his usual morning smoke. Adam took notice, smirking before retrieving a cigarette from his pack for John to light. Lighter then returned to John’s jacket pocket, the pair smoked in comfortable silence, calmly staring into one another’s eyes.

Taking the time out of their own schedules to just relax, and enjoy one another’s company…It had been far, far, too long.

John’s voice was low, breaking the silence first. “I missed you, Junior.”

Adam smiled with pure warmth, raising his cup in a mock-toast before sipping more tea. John couldn’t help but suddenly avert his gaze. There were moments when he would stare at Ocelot at just the right angle—especially when it was those eyes, _her_ eyes—he certainly must’ve been looking at…

A sigh escaped John’s lips. He quickly puffed on his cigar for more stress relief. It was honestly foolish to think this heartache, the loss over her, would ever truly go away.

Snake simply wasn’t feeling hungry anymore to finish his own slice of cake, deciding he’d pack it up with the rest of the dessert to share with Kaz later. Maybe Adam could come with, and they could all enjoy it during (what would normally be) lunch break?

A tiny smile fell upon John’s lips.That _would_ be nice.

Yet the nagging thoughts in the back of his mind made him take pause, curious just when in hell did he become so…accustomed…to domestic life.

Christ.

He’d forever fully blame Kaz for that.

* * *

Tossing the last of the tightly closed garbage bags into the dumpster behind their store, Kaz tiredly let out a breath. The police had assessed various damages, many reports were filled out and phone numbers had been politely exchanged.

All that was left to do after store cleanup…was wait.

The stress of the morning honestly left him craving a smoke, once all was said and done. Funny, when he wasn’t one to partake terribly often.

He couldn’t help but frown, realizing Snake’s bad habits were evidently rubbing off on him.

“Been awhile, hasn’t it?”

Blinking, Kaz automatically snapped out of his daze by looking ahead. Blocking the back entrance to the shop was that strange looking man he once crossed paths with in the street.

Such a disturbing attitude, strange appearance aside, that Miller would be unable to forget it for the rest of his life.

Kaz forced a weak chuckle. “I’m sorry, but despite the sign reading otherwise, we’re closed for the day…”

“That’s not a problem at all.” The man offered a cold smile, taking a step forward. “I wanted to speak with _you_.”

Raw fear clawed within his heart. Every ounce of his being told Kazuhira to escape—his adrenaline kicking in full force—that this situation was simply bad news. Kaz immediately, instinctively, took a step backwards, his back flush against the large dumpster.

Cornered. Damnit.

“M—me?” He swallowed hard, taking careful note of this man intentionally flashing his holster underneath his large coat. “Listen, buddy. I think you’ve got the wrong person.”

“Not at all.” Despite the low, dark, chuckle, there was visible pain across his disfigured features in his next words. “In 1964, he murdered the only person who understood the _true_ nature of this world. That’s something I can never forgive.”

His expression hardened despite calmly retrieving his rifle, ignoring the fact that Miller’s body had gone rigid from shock. “Garbage like him deserves to be disposed of. Your time of ‘peace’ has been nothing but a lie.”

Anger from deep within surfaced as the blank-minded Kazuhira’s fist connected hard against the man’s nose, leaving a sickening _crack_ in its wake, only for white-hot pain to enter his body before Kaz slumped backwards, his head smacking hard into concrete.

Through a piercing scream, tears prickled the corners of his eyes. Another bullet impacted.

Too loud. The bullets fired piercing his very flesh was far too loud. He didn’t need to cast what would have been a weak glance at his body to understand he was becoming hamburger meat in the worst possible way.

His vision of the scarred man before him was blurring, body alight with pain down to his very bones. No way in hell he’d be able to survive this, Kaz felt, weak from blood loss.

Despite Snake’s cold words, despite their petty fight, he just wanted to see him one last time.

Pity that a seemingly normal start to their day ended up so…

Maybe there was truth in their mutual peace being nothing more than a comfortable illusion.

The heaviness of his lead-like eyelids outweighed his silent desire to go on living.

It happened in what felt like an instant.

Jangling spurs, the firing of a gun—only one shot—and something heavy slumping forward were what keep Kazuhira awake in the vaguest sense.

“You’re safe, Miller. Hold tight.”

An unfamiliar, Texan-laden voice, offered comforting reassurance alongside the blare from increasingly close sirens.

“KAZ!”

Something light abruptly hit the ground before a familiar, deep, voice fast approached. It was all he could sense before the approaching darkness swiftly, mercilessly, pulled Kaz under.

* * *

“We’ll talk about his options once he’s adjusted to the situation.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that he—”

“I know, John. It bothers the hell out of me, too. But he utilized self-defense when the situation called for it, right? He hung in there and _fought back_.”

“……”

“Why so quiet?”

“Erm…It’s nothing.”

“I’ll give you two some privacy.”

“Yeah. Thanks again, Vincent."

Steady, beeping, machinery.

His brain felt as if it was in a fog.

‘Anesthetics.’, is the phrase that drifted to the forefront. He could feel his body twitch, something akin to light spasms in his limbs. Especially his right arm and left leg.

How strange.

He slowly blinked, eyes opening. Warmth spread through his left hand, Kazuhira taking in the scene of Snake holding it against his lap, weakly smiling. His sunglasses were in Snake's lap.

“…I’m sorry, about our fight. It was my fault.”

“I’ve already forgotten about the whole thing. It’s fine.” Kaz slowly shook his head, offering the same weak smile back. Something decidedly felt off about his body, but he couldn’t place it. Lighter, somehow? His stomach rumbled, in need of actual food besides these fluids running through his system.

Throat especially dry while gesturing for some water _just_ outside his reach, something was wrong.

Especially once he tried to sit upright in the hospital bed.

He felt Snake’s hand gently supporting his left shoulder, offering a light squeeze. Puzzling, why did Snake have such an uncomfortable look in his eye?

“Kaz…” John’s voice was especially gentle. “Look down.”

“…?”

In doing so, Kazuhira immediately froze, heart caught in his throat. He remembered the intense pain of the shooting, how his limbs felt on fire, but this…

“…I…”

Where his right arm and left leg were once attached, bandaged stumps were in their place. With his trembling remaining hand, he accepted the mirror Snake wordlessly offered. Other than some bandaged cuts surrounding his currently exhausted expression and slight stubble on his chin, he looked the same as ever.

The mirror fell upon his lap. Miller stayed silent, body continuing to shake.

John backed up, returning to his chair distantly, to offer Kaz some measure of physical space, some silent time to take it all—

“Don’t.”

At the request, Snake’s hand cautiously rested upon the younger man’s shoulder once more. He felt himself swallowing thickly. “Kaz. I…”

Kaz just shook his head, using his left hand to pull Snake in for a hug as tight as he could muster. Immediately, Snake’s hands wrapped around Kaz’s waist, burying his face into Kaz’s hair, inhaling a different scent instead of Kaz's usual shampoo, due to the hospital's cleanliness.

Burying his own face into Snake’s familiar chest, his tears flowed freely. He wouldn’t bother asking how many hours or potential days he’d been heavily sedated for. His heart immediately tightened—at least it felt like it—from the sensation of slight wetness against his blonde locks.

Snake crying…Kaz had witnessed it firsthand when Snake was fast asleep. Sometimes, Jack would toss and turn—on rare occasions, he’d wake up screaming—haunted by the nightmares, his private memories, of 1964.

“…I don’t want to lose you, Kaz…Not you, too…”

Kaz sniffled, still silently crying. What could he say in response to something like _that_? Words failed him in the moment.

His hug immediately tightened, warmth filling him, heartbeat relaxing against Snake’s own tight embrace.

In the hallway just outside of Miller’s hospital room, EVA and Ocelot quietly discussed Kaz’s health with Vince, having been granted permission to visit as friends, thanks to Snake. Any phone calls from them ‘reporting’ back to Zero—(either way, Snake would, unsurprisingly, refuse to speak with that man)—could wait.

Properly, finally, introducing themselves to the person who managed to charm Snake these past 12 years could wait.

Snake and Kaz broke away, holding hands. Reassurances of getting through this, and quiet—open—declarations of love were exchanged. Neither was certain who spoke first.

Neither wanted this mutual peace, their life together, to be nothing but a pipe dream.


	5. Christmas Eve, 1994:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A peaceful Christmas Eve with family, and a time for reflection.

A bustling, colorfully decorated, Alaskan house was full of life one Christmas Eve. EVA visited with David in tow—there was mutual surprise in father and son forced to interact.

“I'm surprised you made it.” John said once helping EVA in, kissing her cheek and setting her bags down.

David crossed his arms at the mild retort, snorting. He really did take after John.

“I'm here, aren't I? Mom wouldn't let me hear the end of it otherwise.”

It was only thanks to David enlisting in the army—after his numerous years of training—that EVA managed to cross paths with her baby boy once more. Their relationship was respectful and warm, if not slightly awkward. John and David, with their similarly stubborn personalities, found it difficult to get along, despite vague undercurrents of mutual respect.

George was entertaining a political career after a potentially shady military background—there was nothing she could do—while Eli refused to take part in anything, barely interacting with his family at all, keeping to himself. With a heavy heart, as their mother, EVA knew when to count her blessings, and when to not push certain issues surrounding them.

John, for his part, could’ve sworn he saw George’s face in the papers recently, something about an upcoming election—but certainly he was imagining things.

“Adam’s on his way.”, EVA offered John with a smile, before disappearing into the kitchen to help Kazuhira cook dinner. Mutual squeals of happiness alongside two voices excitedly questioning “How have you been~?!” quickly floated into the living room. John had to admit it amused him how both Adam and Kaz got along so well with her.

Helping himself to a cigar, John ungracefully flopped onto the couch. He was about to offer a sign of goodwill and light David’s cigarette, when he noticed the younger man already smoking, sitting at the opposite end.

Smoke exhaled from John’s mouth, slowly, his eye caught their flickering fireplace. So much for that.

“Keeping yourself busy?” It was all the former Snake could offer, after an awkward beat.

David’s brows furrowed. “I always am, with work. And next time we’re in town, Hal’s mom _still_ has a bone to pick with you over something.”

The older man fell into his own thoughts. David, in their infrequent chats, previously mentioned his friend’s mother—a happily divorced scientist—having rather personal gripes with Big Boss…Jack had his own suspicions on _that_ particular issue, but the less assumptions made, the better.

In the late eighties, Zero—as a direct result of that nasty business with the man who attacked Kaz, since his _real_ target was Jack all along—had reexamined and restructured the Patriots organization in an effort to look after the future. Mutual distance and misunderstandings aside, the potential, very real, thought of losing Jack shook the Major to his very core.

Alternative energy sources _in addition_ to OILIX was priority number one.

In San Francisco, John’s medic friend Vincent and girlfriend Stephanie eventually married; they opted for a dog rather than a child for additional doting. That mutt had to be almost eleven by now. John smiled at the memory of the couple’s excitement over their puppy, one day they bought DD in to visit their shop. He was surprisingly well-behaved; listening to V's every command, patiently sitting with tongue lolling whenever excitable children within the store asked to pet him. 

The shop…With plenty of money set aside, Snake and Kaz retired, closing things up in ‘91. Almost twenty years running felt like plenty of good memories for them. Truthfully, the shooting left both shaken, yet together they visited the Bay Area and old friends whenever this Alaskan cold was bitingly unbearable.

 _Her_ bandana forever remained on Jack’s side of the bed he shared with Kaz, atop the dresser he’d place his eyepatch each night. After saying goodnight to Kaz, wrapping his arms around the blonde man’s waist, Snake would slightly turn his head and smile at that faded gift. He’d drift off asleep with his lips buried against Kaz’s neck.

A peaceful nightly ritual between them.

“Hey, David.” Smiling, Kaz appeared from the kitchen with a pot of steaming food. He was forever thankful that advances in prosthetics made his life easier since the accident. EVA was following behind, carrying a tray of happy-looking gingerbread men she deposited atop the dining room table.

Dave nodded slightly with a smile in reply, while almost immediately, John’s good eye lit up at the gorgeous sight of food before him.

“…Can we start eating yet?”

Kaz and EVA laughed before they joined the other two on the couch, Kaz rather intentionally bumped his hip against John’s. “What about waiting for Ocelot to get here?”

“Good point. As long as we’re waiting for Santa tonight, I can hold off dinner for a while longer.”

David burst out laughing while EVA opened her mouth before deciding to close it. Kazuhira, for his part, just sighed. Already defeated. He knew it was a losing battle to argue with a stubborn man about to turn sixty. Some things never changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Thank you all for sticking through this fic—especially for any Comments or Kudos you've left me. Feedback's always appreciated :D
> 
> I've been in a "discouraged about writing" mood, but MGS has been so important to me (I'll forever blame TPP—particularly VQuiet—for making me want to write fanfic again) that I don't want to stop.
> 
> Next up (within a week or two, I'm hoping?) is a rather angsty oneshot about Kaz, then after that? BBKaz Day 2017 in September, our 2nd annual event! (Check out @BBKazDay on Twitter, a link to the tumblr's there, too!)


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